


Avenging Angel (on hold)

by hedaofchaos



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Aris & Thomas are siblings, Aris is a politician, Blackmail, Homophobia, Hostage Situations, M/M, and a bastard, ridiculous amount of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedaofchaos/pseuds/hedaofchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not<br/>He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got<br/>Oh lord, I'm begging you please,<br/>Don't take that sinner from me.<br/>_</p><p>In which Thomas gets kidnapped because of his brother and finds himself falling for his captor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee and Guns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@newthms on twitter](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40newthms+on+twitter).



Thomas woke up to the abhorrent beep of his alarm clock.

With a groan he reached out for the device - itching to throw it across the room had he had the energy to do so - and blinked at the unmercifully illuminated digits displayed.

 

 

**06:30**

 

 

He contemplated staying in his warm and cosy bed, but he knew he couldn't – duty called.

Throwing his blankets lazily off his body, he was greeted by a relentless frostiness that gave him goosebumps. He got dressed as quickly as his limbs could manage.

 

His breakfast only consisted of a huge cup of coffee – he definitely needed the caffeine – which he drank on his way to work.

 

He arrived at the _Glade_ – a small coffee shop – with five minutes to spare. He hated working there - the customers were all noisy teenagers with no sense of respect, the boss was a dick whose only task was to criticise Thomas and the money definitely wasn't worth the effort – but hell he was lucky he even got a job besides college. He was saving the money to pursue his dream of becoming a pedagogic – he loved children and working with them was what he wanted to dedicate his life to.

Much to his parents' disapproval.

 

They wanted him to study political science, so he'd become as influential and important as his brother – Aris. With 28 years, he was the youngest contestant of becoming the head of the government and the odds were on his side. He was eloquent and knew the exact right words to any situation and with those he could convince  _anyone_ of his beliefs, no matter how dubious they were.

_Everybody_ worshipped and adored him like crazy;

 

but Thomas didn't.

 

He was his brother, which meant he was  _obliged_ to love him, especially when he was so  _likeable_ .

But only Thomas knew his nasty side, the part of him that Aris endeavoured to hide from the rest of the world. Truth was, Aris was a manipulative, reckless and wicked bast -

 

 

“Thomas, stop daydreaming and do your job for once!”, his boss scolded him, yanking him out of the unpleasant thoughts of his brother.

 

 

Some rude remarks here and there when Thomas took too long to get the customers' orders and his boss yelling like mad at him for smashing yet another fucking cup – it was just a normal day then.

 

 

 

Until it wasn't.

 

 

It was around 3 pm when Thomas had returned from his lunch break, his boss greeting him with an  _about time you get back, do you reckon the coffee machine will clean itself?_

With a muted sigh, Thomas grabbed a cleaning rag and set to work.

 

From the corner of his eye he could perceive three customers entering the shop, whereas one of them stalled suspiciously at the entrance. Averting his gaze from the now gleaming device to the remaining two, he examined them; a blonde guy and a dark-haired, the latter slightly taller than the other, approached the counter. Since Thomas conveyed the impression to still being occupied with the coffee machine, his co-worker greeted the two.

 

“Good afternoon. Can I help you?”

 

It was the dark-haired – he was an Asian Thomas observed – who raised his voice:

 

“Yes indeed you can. Me and my friends here are looking for a man named Thomas _Jones_.”

 

 

 

_What?!?!_

 

 

 

 

His co-worker only narrowed his eyes and asked in a polite manner: “And why if I may ask?”

 

“That's none of your bloody business. Now tell us where he is or we're going to make this whole business _very_ uncomfortable," the blonde said with a more authoritative voice, flashing his companion a glance.

 

The Asian pulled a gun from his jacket wearing a mischievous grin on his face. Thomas perceived gasps and shrieking, but his attention was solely on the scene before him.

Pointing the weapon in the vendor's direction, he uttered, now more urgently:

 

“So now, would you be so kind and tell us where Mr. Jones is or do I really have to make use of this beauty here?”

 

Thomas had seen enough to realize the situation was serious. Running on adrenaline - his mouth was faster than his brain - he stammered:

 

“I am Thomas J-Jones.”

 

With the revelation of his identity, Thomas had drawn their attention, looks piercing him like bullets. _What a metaphor, huh?_

 

“Excellent. You're coming with us.”

 

Thomas couldn't even react to this as the Asian's hand shot forward, gun now pointing at his temple. The blonde pulled out a rope, tying his hands tightly together, and Thomas suppressed his usually stubborn nature and complied with his captor's demands – he didn't even struggle as they made their way through the shop. He wasn't surprised that no one made a move to help him - he wouldn't either have risked getting shot for a _nobody_ like him. And the lethal weapons definitely did their part in this as well.

 

Once outside, a girl was leaning against a black van, obviously waiting for them. Everything happened so fast, he barely noticed that his head was pulled down only to get forcefully shoved into the vehicle.

 

His mind was spinning and he couldn't grasp a clear thought; it made him feel nauseous and dizzy and the fact that he couldn't _see_ anything – he got blindfolded as soon as the car started moving – definitely didn't help at all. In fact, he was on the verge of panicking, but he couldn't afford shutting off his rational mind.

 

_Think, Thomas – Think!_

 

Why would anyone kidnap _him_? He never wronged anyone, did he? And how in hell did those guys know his name? It wasn't like he was well-known or any -

 

 _He_ wasn't – _but his last name was._

 


	2. Chains and Pain

The vehicle was brought to a halt after what seemed like hours of sitting tied up in the back seat. Thomas felt himself getting pushed out of the van and struggled to his feet, almost losing balance caused by the lack of coordination when strong arms caught him and steadied his body. Not being able to see frightened him, and the not-knowing about what was about to happen drove him insane. Would they hurt him? Even torture him?

 

_Or kill him?_

 

They must've entered a building by then, Thomas could perceive so much from the reverberating of their footsteps. As they stopped moving, someone fumbled with his ankles and his skin there came in contact with a cold object. Judging from the sound it made, he grasped that he was being chained up.

 

But then - _finally -_ his captors removed the blindfold. As soon as his eyes had adjusted to the subtle change of brightness, Thomas could examine his surroundings; no furniture, no inventory, _nothing_ – this place was, excluding himself and the three kidnappers, completely empty. The only thing indicating that people lived here was that the main hall was subdivided in four smaller rooms. The building appeared to be something similar to a loft, spacious but dark with no windows at all.

_What was this place?_

 

Thomas seemed to have found his voice again as he stuttered:

 “W-Where am -”

 

_Crack._

Thomas could barely finish his sentence, as the blonde threw a powerful punch straight in his face. Judging by the pain and the sound it had made, he assumed his nose was broken. He felt a warm liquid against his skin and shuddered when it reached his mouth, tasting strongly metallic. _Blood_.

 

He couldn't even wipe the blood from his face as he was struck another blow. And another. And another. Thomas thought for a second that he would pass out from the vigorous pain, until the punches abruptly ceased. He expected another blow, but since nothing came he dared to open his eyes. The blonde was being held back by the dark-haired and the girl. He looked like a feral predator, eager to lunge at its prey.

 

_What had he got into?_

_What had he done to deserve this?_

 

Thomas winced. He had had the small beacon of hope that they would just hold him prisoner until they got whatever they wanted, but this hope had died away as soon as the fist connected with his face. Countless worst-case scenarios were replaying in his head, all of them having blood and gore in common.

What if they got off on exerting power? And he was being used for the gratification of some sick fantasy?

 

Suddenly the idea of death conveyed comfort; he would do _anything_ to escape any forms of torture.

His train of thoughts was disrupted by the taller boy's voice.

 

“Woa Newt, calm the fuck down. Save this for his brother.”

 

_His brother?_

 Then it dawned on him.

He wasn't a random victim. They knew his name because they were looking for _him_. This was planned out. And every plan had a purpose.

 

 

They were using him to get to Aris.

 

They were using him for _blackmail._

 

Thomas couldn't help but burst out laughing. He must've looked like a maniac, bloodstained face adding to the look of complete lunacy.

 The blonde stopped struggling, and now all 3 of them were gawking at him in disbelief.

 

“What's so bloody funny huh?”, the fair-haired, _Newt_ , said, definitely not amused and slightly irritated.

 

“You're using _me_ to get to Aris? Well good fucking luck with that”, Thomas responded with a now more serious expression on his face.

 

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

“The only person my brother cares about is himself. If you really thought that he would give a shit about _me_ being in trouble then you certainly haven't done your research," Thomas stated.

 

“Then...you're not close?”

 

The brunette tried to hold back his laughter, failing slightly as a chuckle escaped his lips.

 “Are you fucking serious? I'm pretty sure there is no one on this planet that hates him as much as I do.”

 

“Well, we could argue about that," Newt retorted and Thomas could swear he spotted a hint of a smirk forming on the blonde's mouth.

* * *

 

Although his accomplices didn't seem very convinced, Newt shooed them away. Thomas was grateful when they left – even though they didn't give the impression to be up to injuring him any further, he preferred not to push his luck.

 

Trying to make himself as comfortable as possible, he reclined on the mattress the girl – _Teresa_ he had found out earlier – had placed before leaving the main hall. He was far from falling asleep, but nonetheless he needed to at least try to get some rest. He shut his eyes, but the throbbing pain in his wrists – the rope was slightly cutting into his skin – and his nose kept him wide awake. Desperation was taking a hold of him and he felt his eyes watering.

 

 _You're such a whiny baby Thomas, you've always been so utterly weak, so pathetic,_ he could hear his brother's voice as if he were right beside him, and it sent shivers down his spine.

He refused to let the tears flow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not very happy with this one but well..  
> I still hope you liked it and thank you for reading!  
> by the way, any form of feedback is very welcomed, especially regarding style :3 x


	3. Bad Memories

„What do you mean he doesn't care?!”

 

Teresa's voice jolted Thomas out of his sleep. Although sleeping on a mattress as hard as stone in an uncomfortable position certainly wasn't the best condition to fall asleep in, but at sometime tiredness had swallowed him whole, and he was pulled away from the unpleasant reality and thrown into sweet nothingness. The unsettling events earlier had exhausted not only his body, but also his mind since it had been constantly spinning with dreadful thoughts.

Thomas suppressed a yawn in order to eavesdrop to the conversation his 3 captors were having. They were sitting in one of the few rooms, but their voices still echoed through the main hall of the building.

 

“He's his bloody brother how could he ignore our threat to kill Thomas?”, Newt this time.

 

His heart skipped a beat. He had jumped to conclusions when he said they didn't look like they would hurt him. _But were they really going to kill him?_

 

“So Thomas _did_ tell the truth. Aris really isn't fussed about this _matter._ ”

 

“What are we going to do now?”, Teresa asked in a worrying tone.

 

“Wait," Newt answered firmly.

 

“Wait?? I'd say we cut some of his fingers off and send it to Aris. No way he will still ignore our threat then," Thomas heard the dark-haired say impatiently, though he could not quite figure out whether he was serious or not. 

“We're going to wait. Patience is key. He can't keep this matter from the press forever - what would the public say if they heard that their oh so lovely soon-to-be head of government doesn't care about his own family? Aris may not give a fuck about Thomas but he certainly won't risk losing his reputation," Newt responded calmly.

 

“I kinda feel sorry for the boy you know," Teresa admitted, “like, imagine having _him_ as sibling. Only thinking about it gives me chills.”

 

This caught Thomas off guard. People usually told him how  _ lucky  _ and  _ fortunate  _ he was to be the brother of such an  _ inspiring  _ and  _ outstanding  _ man like Aris, but they would never understand. Because they never looked behind the surface. Never did they face the ugly beast behind the pretty mask because he never  _ showed _ . Not to anyone but Thomas. 

 

Thomas was so taken aback by the statement that he tucked up his legs almost automatically, without noticing; also forgetting about the chains attached to them – rattling ensued.

He cursed under his breath for disrupting the conversation – he could have got a bit more information concerning their plan out of it, but of course he had to screw it.

The conversation abruptly died down and after a while of uncomfortable silence, he spotted Newt walking into the main hall, approaching the brunette.

 

“Sleeping beauty finally awake I reckon," he said with a mischievous grin on his face.

Thomas kept his mouth shut as Newt slowly slid down the wall and sat beside Thomas on the mattress.

 

“Eavesdropping on our little conversation, aren't you?”

 

_Shit._

Although it didn't sound menacing, Thomas swallowed hard and remained quiet.

 

Newt sighed and turned towards the brunette to face him.

“Listen. Thomas. We can make this whole _matter_ more convenient if we just stick to the truth. I need you to know that we won't hurt you alright? No need to have this bloody deer-in-the-headlights-look on your face all the time.”

 

Thomas answered unnerved:

“Yeah, tell that my broken nose, thanks for that by the way. And why on earth should I believe you when you just discussed _killing_ me?”

 

“What good is blackmail without a proper threat?”, Newt said, matter-of-factly, then added, shrugging:

“But I assume our _threat_ isn't as convincing as we hoped it would be.”

 

“And about your nose: I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I...I lost my poise for a moment," Newt apologized.

 

Although his rational mind screamed at him not to believe one word the blonde said, he contented himself with the declaration. Besides, what could he possibly do anyway besides enduring?

Instead of letting the conversation subside, Thomas asked, though he knew the answer:

“You must really hate my brother, don't you?”

 

Newt averted his gaze from Thomas' face to his own hands. It seemed like he had reminded him of something painful; the sight of the blonde – shoulders slumped, fiddling with his fingers, eyes blank – triggered the odd urge to comfort him. He couldn't help but wonder: what had Aris done to make someone like Newt do something like this?

 

“Yes," his captor said curtly, before he continued:

“But I can tell you're not so fond of Aris either. No happy sibling-relationship I suppose?”

 

Thomas cringed at the thought of his brother; bad memories washed over him like a tidal wave.

 

* * *

 

**Flashback**

 

_It was after school, when he decided to tell them. He_ had  _to tell someone. He knew if he didn't get this off his chest, he would explode._

_When he came home, he changed his mind; he would tell his brother first – if he was able to bring up the courage to tell_ him,  _then telling his parents would be a piece of cake._

_Aris was, as Thomas had predicted, in his room. Studying, of course. Aris had started studying political science a few years ago, and due to his determination and talent, he even had skipped some grades. It was obvious that this guy would achieve something great._

 

_Thomas entered the room to see his brother leaning over a pile of books. He didn't seem to have noticed him entering, so Thomas cleared his throat and said hesitantly:_

“ _Aris?”_

 

“ _I'm busy can't you see?”, he responded with a grunt._

 

_Thomas wouldn't give up that easily._

“ _Please. I need you to tell something.....Something important.”_

 

_Aris sighed, placed the pen he was holding on the desk and turned around, slowly._

 

“ _It's about me...I-I..”_

 

_Goddamnit Thomas. You practised th-_

_Before he could continue his thoughts, his brother taunted in a mocking tone:_

 

“ _What, are you gay?”_

 

_Laughter ensued._

 

 

_But Thomas definitely wasn't laughing. All colour had left his face. He didn't say anything, he just stood there, feeling like he was about to pass out._

_Aris stopped laughing and his amused expression was replaced by a horrified one._

 

“ _Well, yeah”, Thomas uttered, barely audible._

 

_Before he could react, he was shoved into the door, hands grabbing his collar forcefully._

“ _Don't you ever, EVER_ _mention this again. I won't tolerate having a_ faggot _as brother. You're such a disappointment Thomas. It's disgusting. YOU are disgusting.”_

 

_Thomas had replayed all possible scenarios in his head, but never did he imagine it would turn out_ this  _bad._

“ _As soon as I become a politician, I can assure you that people like you will be punished for such a sick and twisted inclination._

 

_You. repel. me.”_

 

 

_And Thomas never mentioned it again._

 

* * *

 

Thomas snapped out of his daze when he saw someone – _Newt_ – waving an already lit cigarette in front of his face. Although he wasn't a smoker, he gladly took a drag from it – he needed to calm his nerves.

There they sat, silently, side by side, passing the cigarette to each other. Thomas tried hard not to cough when he inhaled the smoke.

 

“I see. This bad, huh....”, Newt mumbled, more to himself than to Thomas.

 

Suddenly the blonde changed the subject:

“You know, what I said earlier, about being sorry with what I did to you – I mean it. And to prove it, you can wish for 3 things, and I'll give them to you.”

 

Pushing the thoughts of his brother away, Thomas managed to crack a smile as he joked:

“So...You're my fairy then?”

 

The blonde rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck in the back of his skull.

“Yes I'm your bloody fairy. Now tell me your wishes or I may change my mind.”

 

“Release me.”

 

He already knew the answer to that, but it was worth a shot.

 

“You know we won't do that Tommy," his captor replied, shaking his head.

_Did he just seriously call him Tommy?_

 

“2 wishes left," he added, smiling mischievously.

 

“Hey, that's not fair!”, Thomas contested.

 

“2 more," he repeated firmly.

 

“Okay, okay.... I want my Ipod back.”

The first thing his kidnappers did after they had chained him up was confiscating everything he had in his pockets, including his Ipod.

The blonde stood up and walked through the main hall and into one of the rooms, only to come back a few seconds later with the device Thomas loved so much in his hands.

 

“Here you go. So, what's your last one?”, the blonde asked while returning to his previous place beside Thomas.

 

 

 

“Dance with me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update :)  
> I'm so sorry but I'm a sucker for dancing scenes, so up next is something I hope you will all like :3  
> Anyway, thank you for reading x


	4. Blue Jeans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is essential to start this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRWox-i6aAk as soon as Thomas hits play.  
> Hope you enjoy! :3

Thomas couldn't deter himself from blurting it out. He told himself that he said this in order to test how far he could go.

_But was this the truth?_

 

Newt _definitely_ didn't expect this – he looked at Thomas like he had grown a second head.

“You're joking, right?”

 

Thomas shook his head and retorted - not being able to suppress a malicious grin:

“I'm serious. I need to _move -_ I have been chained up like a dog for what, 2 days? Besides, it's fun. I love dancing.”

 

“That's ridiculous, Tommy!"

 

“Come on, what harm could it do to you?”

 

“I don't even know how to dance!”

 

“Then I'll show you! Fairies don't deny wishes, Newt.”

 

After a long pause – and some death glares the fair-haired gave him – Newt mumbled, defeated:

“Fine.”

 

Thomas had to contain himself not to blurt out anything stupid to demonstrate his joy over the victory. Newt fumbled with the chains attached to the brunette's ankle and once he was freed, he stood up as fast as his movement-deprived legs could manage and stretched them.

 

“Just so you know, there's no point in trying to run. The doors are locked from the outside," Newt informed him.

 

Thomas hadn't even thought about running, which was odd since this was the only thing he wanted ever since he was dragged here. But he knew that his captors wouldn't be so stupid to make escaping a walk-over.

 

He peeked at his hands and realized they were still tied together. He threw Newt a suggestive look; the latter seemed to have understood as he folded his arms and said:

“Nu-uh, these stay on.”

 

“But I can't lead wi-”

 

“No," the blonde interjected with finality.

 

A sigh escaped Thomas' lips. Thanks to his long fingers, he was able to work his Ipod even with the rope tied around his wrists and without Newt's help. He searched the music library until he stumbled upon a song he hadn't heard for a long time. He smirked as he placed the device gently on the floor and pressed play.

 

Newt's eyebrows shot up as the intro started playing. He was slightly startled as Thomas lifted his arms above the blonde's head, only to put them down to rest upon Newt's shoulders.

Newt stood there rigidly, his own arms hanging loosely at his sides and seeming rather unassertive.

 

“Put your hands on my waist. I can't lead like this, so you have to”, Thomas prompted and Newt obliged, although tentatively.

“All you have to do is mirror my actions, Newt. It's easy.”

 

Thomas took a step to his right and Newt did the same. The latter's movements were stiff and he barely even touched Thomas' hips, so the brunette mouthed “Relax” and Newt slightly loosened up.

 

 

_Blue Jeans,_

_white shirt_

_walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn_

_it was like James Dean_

_for sure_

 

 

Newt's uneasiness slowly vanished and the two were almost moving in synch now. Thomas felt a sensation he couldn't decipher as the grip on Thomas' hips got tighter. _He enjoyed this way too much, didn't he?_

 

 

_You fit me better than my favourite sweater_

_and I know_

_that love is mean_

_and love hurts_

 

 

Newt's hair appeared like a golden halo in the dimly lit building. _He looked like an angel._

 

 

_I will love you till the end of time_

_I would wait a million years_

_promise you remember that you're mine_

 

 

Thomas thought he was going to collapse from the overwhelming feelings that rushed through him when Newt raised his gaze – which had been fixated on his feet - until it was at the same level as Thomas'. He ended up staring into Newt's wide, amber – _beautiful –_ eyes and his feet almost gave out. Of course his thoughts were inappropriate considering the circumstances – actually all _this_ was - but he didn't care. The whole world had faded away when the music started playing, his attention being solely on the sight before him and on the soft but firm touch of Newt's hands on his hips. _Was this really happening?_

 

 

_Big dreams, gangsta_

_said you had to leave to start your life over_

_I was like “no, please, stay here_

_we don't need no money we can make it all work”_

_but he headed out on Sunday_

_said he come home Monday_

_I stayed up waiting anticipating and pacing_

_but he was chasing_

_paper_

_Caught up in the game – that was the last I heard_

 

 

Their faces were mere inches away from each other and the proximity made his heart pound so fast he feared it might jump out of his chest. A strong, unfamiliar emotion was boiling up inside of him – it felt like his whole body was on fire. Thomas could count Newt's eyelashes if he wanted to and the sensation of the boy's hot breath on his cheek drove him insane. They never broke eye-contact, but Newt's expression was unreadable. Thomas couldn't help but wonder _What was going on in that blonde head of his? Did he feel the same things he did? The heat? The electricity? The tension?_

 

 

_you went out every night_

_and baby that's alright_

_I told you that no matter what you did I'd be by your side_

_'cause imma ride or die_

_whether you fail or fly_

_well, shit, at least you tried_

_but when you walked out that door_

_a piece of me died_

_told you I wanted more, that's not what I had in mind_

_just want it like before_

_we were dancing all night_

_then they took you away_

_stole you out of my life_

 

_you just need to remember_

 

 

Suddenly the spot where Newt's hands had been resting was vacated. Newt shook his head vigorously and urged: “Let me go”

 

_Had he gone too far?_

Trying to find an answer to this question in the blonde's face was to no avail since his expression entirely lacked any emotion.

As he lifted his arms over Newt's head, the latter backed off and Thomas asked in a worried tone:

“Is it the song? I can change it if you do-”

 

“It's not the bloody song. I-I can't do this!”

 

Thomas let Newt lead him to his mattress, only to chain him up again. He watched his captor attaching the chains to his ankle and couldn't wrap his mind around what had happened. _Of course Newt hadn't felt what he had during this. Why would he?_

 

As the blonde was done, he stood up and opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but he seemed to have changed his mind and instead, turned on his heels and disappeared into one of the rooms, leaving a dumbfounded Thomas behind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adjusted it to my pace of reading so I apologize if it didn't match yours.  
> Writing the dance scene of my last fic gave me so much joy that I decided to include a slightly more different one in this fic :3  
> This is also the last chapter I've written down, so chances are that it could take more than 2 days to update :3  
> And again, thank you so much for reading and feel free to give me your feedback either here or on my twitter @shuckitommy x

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the crappy summary. (song is https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTb6MoMLvcY , go listen to it, it fits the story)  
> Since I got so many lovely feedbacks on my last fic I decided to write this one :3  
> This is for lovely Heidi, who encouraged me to publish this - go follow her on twitter @newthms
> 
> I hope you enjoy!  
> Updating every 2 days.
> 
> And yet again, english is not my native language so forgive me for mistakes/wrongly used expressions


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